New Normal
by poetif
Summary: They have a history of ignoring things, letting things die and honing methods of avoidance most shrinks would prescribe meds for. But this...this is something they can't just forget about. Characters obviously aren't mine, blah, blah, blah but this story is. Rated M for language and sexual content. And it's me so it's E/O as usual.
1. Regrets

**AN: It's been awhile. Just hoping I'd get some inspiration for finishing my script if I just wrote something. So of course, I chose the two easiest characters to write about, lol. Not your typical EO beginning, at least not from me. Bear with me people, I'm rusty. But shall we see where it goes?**

It finally happened, despite the fact she swore it never would. She was adamant not solely to other people, but also to herself. _Especially_ to herself. Whispers, rumors and innuendo were bad enough but she sure as hell wanted to be anything but a cliché.

Olivia couldn't do a damn thing about the rest, but she definitely thought she could avoid being a fucking cliché. That all changed last night. There's no beautifully poetic, sunshine & flowers, champagne & candlelight way to put it.

They fucked.

There was no gut wrenching, emotionally draining case. No overabundance of alcohol. Nothing to blame on the reason they jeopardized their respectfully platonic friendship by getting naked and sweaty with each other on a Saturday evening after she'd casually invited him over to watch an NHL playoff game.

And she's struggling to figure out why.

Last night wasn't different than any other time they shared after hours, which wasn't all that often. Despite the aforementioned whispers, rumors and innuendo, they simply didn't hang out much beyond what was required of them by the NYPD.

A phone call from his eldest son reminding him he needed a ride back to the U.S. Coast Guard Academy, woke them this morning giving them both a pass on having to come up with excuses for him to leave. Being light sleepers due to their jobs, both were startled awake by his purposely annoying ringtone. There was barely any time to register his warm breath on the back of her neck, his arm draped across her middle nor the feeling of his bare skin pressed so intimately against her own before the noise began.

Olivia turned back over because it was too damn early but remembers hearing him hurrying back into his clothes, mumbling a few choice words when he'd stubbed his toe on her dresser and feeling his lips on her temple before he rushed out with a quick, "call you later Liv."

That was several hours ago.

She has since gotten up, showered, stripped the sheets from her bed and made herself breakfast. Upon waking she was immediately bombarded by their combined scents, the memory of what they'd done as well as his phantom touches. No way in hell was she going to continue laying there replaying it in her mind.

"It was a bad idea, and it can't happen again," she says to herself for the millionth time as she's throwing her sheets and other laundry into the washer.

Olivia decided it would be one more thing they'd put behind them like so many others. This situation will be decidedly more difficult to bury, but for the sake of her career and her longest, most cherished relationship…

She can do it.

"_I can do it,"_ Elliot thinks.

He can still smell himself all over her thanks to the hours it has taken to drive his son back to school before heading home. It was mostly a quiet ride. Rick didn't comment on his vanilla and brown sugar scented father and Elliot skipped the lecture on his son's obvious hangover.

Since the divorce he vowed he'd be there more for his kids, and he's happily come through for them more often than not. Elliot made a similar promise regarding his partner a year ago. Not to be there more, because they obviously spend an overabundance of time together already, but to stop taking her for granted.

They communicated better after he found out his hero was a murderer. Got closer after O'Halloran was killed. And when she finally confessed the details of Sealview, Elliot encouraged her to revisit counseling. The partnership evolved, and they continued discussing everything other than the one subject they actively avoided. Their feelings. A conscious decision on both their parts because he was still married at the time.

But last night…things changed.

One minute they were sitting on her sofa yelling about uncalled penalties by the ref and cheering at hard checks by their favorite defenseman. And the next, they were talking about their respective personal lives and why neither of them was dating.

"_Well, I've had enough time on a shrink's couch to know what someone like Huang would say," Olivia pointed out._

"_And what's that?" Elliot asked, smiling around his beer as he sipped._

_She smirked before grabbing the remote and switching to a random movie channel after the game highlights began to roll._

"_That as much time as we spend together, talking, working, eating…we get almost everything out of this partnership that we'd have in a relationship."_

"_Yeah, __**almost**__ everything," he said, waggling his eyebrows and making her laugh._

"_What's your take?" She asked. "And don't give me that 'married to the job' bullshit because that's my line Stabler."_

"_Well, Kathy did like to call you my 'work wife'," he told her, resulting in a throw pillow to the face. _

"_I've always hated that term," she said. "Makes me sound like some nagging woman that babysits you, makes sure your DD5s are handed in on time and ensures you stay out of trouble." _

"_Well we both know that's not true," Elliot told her. "But I've had enough time on my own shrink's couch to know that you're right."_

"_What?"_

"_You heard me," he said. "We click. We always have. There are times we've majorly disagreed, but we've always supported each other, rooted for each other, protected each other," he adds. "And that is__** almost**__…a relationship."_

_She held his eyes for a long moments before having to turn away._

"_No more of these for you," she said, taking his bottle and downing what little remained of his beer. "Now help me clean all this up before you start waxing poetic."_

_He shook his head as he helped gather the food boxes and empty bottles before following her into the kitchen._

"_It's only my second beer Liv," he said, rinsing the empties before putting them in her recycle container beneath the sink. "Do I really not tell you you're right often enough to make you think I'm drunk?"_

_He watched as she put away the leftovers in the fridge._

"_No, you don't," Olivia said as she closed the door. "But I'm not some rookie who needs positive affirmations," she added. "I know when I'm right," she smirked, leaning against the opposite counter in the small kitchen. "Happens often."_

"_With that kind of modesty, I don't know why some lucky bastard hasn't swept you off your feet already," he poked, making her laugh._

"_You __**should **__know," she told him. "You and this __**almost**__ relationship is obviously blocking all the action I could be getting."_

_He shook his head but couldn't hide his grin._

And that's when it happened.

On a random Saturday night, just enjoying one another's company and making each other smile, he kissed her. And to Elliot's great surprise, delight and enjoyment, Olivia Benson kissed him back.

She kissed him back.

That is, she surmises, where she fucked up. Olivia knows she should've pulled away, stopped him or at the very least _not_ kissed him back, but she did. Enthusiastically so, if she remembers correctly.

"Shit," she says to herself.

Maybe if she managed more than a date a month in the last year, she wouldn't have responded so strongly to his advances. Then again, she'd be lying to herself to deny having fantasized about everything they did to one another last night.

Olivia blushes at the thoughts that immediately invade her mind.

"Shit!"

After she prepares and eats lunch at home, she sits down at her laptop in an attempt at being productive. She figures if anything can take her mind off her predicament, it will be monotonous paperwork, reviewing victim statements and working on court testimony.

It works for about two hours.

Now she's back to thinking about what happened on her kitchen counter, then her sofa and her carpeted living room floor before they managed to finally make it to her bedroom. And to make matters worse, she has soreness in places that haven't been used for a while, along with numerous hickies, some of which she needed a mirror to see.

Olivia's had good sex before. Hell, she's had great sex before. But she has never spent an entire night, redefining the laws of gravity and physics, having phenomenal sex with someone who is her partner. With whom, she must work on Monday.

"Fuck!"

She nearly jumps out her skin when she hears the series of knocks against her front door. Elliot said he'd call but obviously, it's him. He's been knocking the same way for twelve years. Olivia is hesitant to answer but, in the end, she knows she will.

Avoidance has never done either of them any favors.

"You okay?" He asks. "I heard you yelling."

"I'm good," she answers. "Just…working," she adds, gesturing to her desk littered in paperwork.

"I see that," he says, closing the door behind himself. "Do you have a minute to talk?" He asks, stuffing both hands in his jean's front pockets.

Elliot has showered, changed and had lunch with his girls. Everything his Sunday was supposed to consist of. The need for this conversation, or anything remotely resembling it, was the furthest thing from his mind when he made plans last week.

Olivia notices that he tries to keep his distance when before last night, he would've already come in and situated himself on the sofa or her armchair. He hasn't respected her personal space since they met. And he sure has hell wouldn't have asked for her time in the previous twenty-four hours.

"Sure, have a seat."

The vanilla and brown sugar scent wafts up his nose as he passes by and Elliot balls his fists to physically stop himself from reaching to touch her.

"I uh, rushed out of here kind of fast this morning," he begins, choosing the armchair. "Forgot I had to take Rick back to the academy."

"Coast Guard, huh?" She asks. "Guess that's safer than the Marines or the Army."

"Hope so," he answers. "It was a good compromise, he seems to be enjoying it and it's one less college tuition."

"Good for him."

"But…"

"You're not here to talk about Rick," she acknowledges, facing him as she gets comfortable in one corner of her sofa.

"No," he responds. "Last night we—"

"I remember," she interrupts. "We probably should've talked more before—"

"Or after," he tells her. "At least the first time."

"Or the third."

"Or the fourth," he adds trying to hide a smirk.

"This isn't funny Elliot," she chides. "We're partners. And partners, at least those that wanna remain partners, don't have sex."

"Sorry," he acquiesces. "But it's not like we ran off to Vegas and got tanked before paying an Elvis impersonator to preside over our nuptials," he points out. "We don't have to rat ourselves out to Cragen."

He knows he's trying to minimize what happened between them as something less than colossal, because that's exactly what it is. But he's doing it for the good of the relationship they're both comfortable with, in its previous sexless form.

"Okay," she agrees. "Just…wanna make sure we're on the same page."

"We are," he tells her. "Last night wasn't supposed to happen and for the sake of our partnership—

"It shouldn't happen again," Olivia finishes. "Right."

"But at least we don't have to wonder anymore," he adds. "That…tension has been broken, ya know?"

Olivia looks away, tries to hide a grin under the guise of scratching her nose before returning her gaze on the guy that made her moan, scream and climax more times in one night than any man ever has.

"Yeah," she admits. "No more of that particular tension."

Now begins the new-found tension of trying to keep her mind out of the gutter and her hands to herself with a hell of lot more restraint than was previously required. Because before she could only _speculate_ how his tongue would feel sliding against hers, or his mouth would feel on various parts of her anatomy, or his hands or his…

"Liv!"

"What?"

"I've been calling your name for a solid minute and you've just been staring at me like…"

Like she's seen him naked and wants to again. Soon. Even now.

"I'm sorry," she says, quickly standing. "I've been spacing out all morning," she tells him moving toward the door, hinting he should do the same. "And I have all this work I wanna catch up on."

"Right, well I'm glad we talked Liv," he says. "I didn't want things to be awkward between us tomorrow."

"No worries partner," she tells him.

They stand uncomfortably at her front door for a few seconds before he leans in, placing a lingering kiss to her cheek. Olivia instantly places a hand at his nape, holding him there. He ends the kiss but drops lower, nuzzling her neck, inhaling her scent.

Feeling his breath on her skin, she innately tightens her hold as if her body has forgotten what they've just agreed to. Her heart quickly begins to race once Elliot opens his mouth against her pulse and puts both arms around her waist, pulling her against his body.

He places warm, open-mouthed kisses from the tender flesh of her neck, to her cheek before blissfully parting her lips with his own. Tongues glide against each other, he suckles at her lower lip and she's seconds from going for the button of his jeans.

If not for the need to breathe, Olivia would never have found the strength to pull back.

"You should go," she tells him as he releases his hold. "And maybe…maybe we shouldn't see each other outside of work for a while," she adds with a flushed face and racing heart.

He simply nods, just as affected, not needing to ask about the why. They need to slide those decade-plus old barriers back into place. Them being alone in the same room, without the prying eyes of their coworkers with what's between them now, is a bad idea. They've just proven that.

"See you in the morning," Elliot rasps, then quickly exits.

Olivia is left frustrated and apprehensive about what tomorrow will bring.

**End AN: Hope you enjoyed this first chapter. Please let me know what you think so far in a review. Also, I didn't use a beta. I never have. So, if you see any errors, ah well. I'm human and this site doesn't let you edit without going through removing and uploading again. No thanks. **


	2. Status Quo

**AN: I appreciate the reviews and all who've welcomed me back!**

Elliot has spent a good portion of the day actively avoiding looking his partner in the eye or taking a breath anywhere near her. It was a good, no…great, no…perfect plan. In his mind it was an absolutely perfect fucking plan.

That is, until Cragen ordered them to surveil a house where a rape suspect is known to frequent for drugs when he's not preying on women.

They park half a block down the street. Far enough to be inconspicuous but close enough to see who comes and goes. And fortunately, adjacent to a park with nasty but public restrooms to relieve themselves. The late spring night is dark and wet but unseasonably warm for New York City. So, the windows remain down, and both are thankful to be able to breathe air that doesn't smell like his cologne or her body lotion.

While she seems to be taking things in stride, calmly sipping her coffee and periodically taking a closer look with some binoculars, her partner is anything but.

He can't be still.

Between tapping on the steering wheel with his index finger, shifting in his seat or popping his knuckles, he's a bundle of nerves.

"How long do you think 'til he shows?" Elliot asks.

Olivia looks at her watch and the sparse activity around the house.

"It's only just past 9 o'clock El," she answers. "The later it gets the busier it'll get, we're early."

"Great…that's just great."

"What is your problem?" Olivia asks him. "We've done this a million times and you're acting as if this is your first stakeout or you'd rather be anywhere else."

He finally meets her eyes for a few seconds but quickly returns his focus to the street.

"Is that it?" She asks. "You have some place you need to be?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"How…how are you so fucking calm?" He asks. "I mean…we had sex Olivia, we had…a whole hell of a _lot_ of sex!"

"Jesus Christ, Elliot!" She yells. "Why don't you scream it a little louder, maybe they didn't hear you in the Bronx!"

He takes a breath, releases the death grip he didn't even realize he had on the steering wheel and rests both hands in his lap.

"Sorry," he says, facing her. "I'm just finding that trying to put this behind me has been easier said than done," he adds. "I didn't sleep that well at all last night and I was distracted most of the day," he explains. "My focus was much better when I'd only _imagined_ seeing you naked."

"Wow," she manages.

An old Ford Escort pulls up to the surveilled home, the guy that gets out is gangly with long, dark hair. Not even close to their suspect's description.

"Despite what you seem to think, it hasn't been easy for me either," she admits. "You're not just my partner, you're the longest relationship I've had with anyone other than my mother," she adds. "The person I'm closest to, the next of kin in my personnel file, my…organ donor."

Elliot laughs despite himself.

"Don't make jokes," he manages. "I blame _you_."

"What?" Olivia asks, incredulously. "How the hell is this all on me?"

"You're the one who invited me over."

"To watch the NHL playoffs Elliot, not to—

"Fuck on every surface of your apartment?"

Olivia massages her temples with her fingers, shaking her head of the instant mental pictures as she turns away from him and refocuses her attention on the job.

"I didn't answer the door wearing a sexy dress, smelling of my most expensive perfume, or playing Marvin Gaye," she begins, still focused on the task at hand. "And I didn't prepare a nice dinner, ending it with a champagne toast."

"Is that what you do?"

"The point is…I wasn't aiming for a night of seduction," Olivia tells him. "I invited a friend over to watch something we both enjoy because I thought it'd be fun," she continues. "There's no way I could've predicted everything that happened afterward."

"That makes two of us. And it was fun, the game I mean…it was fun to watch with you," he clarifies. "It's been a year since the divorce, my dating life has been sporadic at best and on those weekends where I don't have Eli it gets…well, let's just say I was more than happy for the invitation."

"That why you kissed me?"

Just then the radio crackles to life, advising the detectives their rape suspect has been apprehended by Vice in a Staten Island drug raid. He'll be processed in central booking then taken to The Tombs. Cragen calls shortly after letting them know questioning can wait until morning.

"I can drop you off at home," Elliot offers. "No point in driving all the way back to the station just to take the train or a taxi."

"Okay."

It only takes twenty minutes before he's stopping at the curb in front of her Midtown apartment building. And as elated as she is to have the day over with, there's something Olivia needs to know.

"You never answered my question."

He could pretend not to know what it was, but Elliot knows she'll only repeat it. Stalling for time won't help.

"It was just…one of those perfect moments where everything lined up."

She furrows her manicured brows in confusion.

"It was a good night…good food, good game, great company," he explains. "We made each other laugh, you smiled and I…just felt such a strong pull," he goes on. "And it's not like I haven't felt it before but—

"You weren't in any position to do anything about it or at the very least…you didn't think I'd reciprocate."

"No, I didn't," Elliot admits. "But the way you looked at me that night, like you were seeing me as something other than partner or friend or organ donor," he continues with a grin. "I just…I saw you as more than that too and I couldn't stop myself."

Olivia takes a few moments to process all that he's said, knowing how uncharacteristic these moments of complete honesty are for them

.

"So…why'd you kiss me back?" He asks.

"Can't say my reasons are all that different from yours," she responds. "We've always had chemistry Elliot so I can't deny that I _was_ seeing you in a way that was less than platonic," she tells him. "I kissed you back because in that moment…I couldn't think of a good enough reason not to."

"If this was just mindless sex Liv, and we both agreed it shouldn't have happened," he begins. "Then why was this day so damn hard to get through?"

"Can we just chalk it up to lust or dry spells for both of us?"

"You really think it's that simple?" He asks. "Because it wouldn't explain the last time we-

"I know," she interjects, tired of being overwhelmed with vivid mental pictures.

"Or the kiss at your door the next morning."

"I know," she repeats, calmer.

Olivia takes a deep breath, rubs her right temple before resting her elbow against the door frame.

"I'm tired Elliot," she says. "I don't have the energy to dissect all the why's let alone what the answers could lead to."

"Then I guess I'll just see you tomorrow."

"Yeah."

Elliot reaches out covering her hand with his, pausing her exit with his touch.

"Liv?"

"Yes El, you'll see me tomorrow," she assures him, squeezing his hand momentarily before stepping from the car. "I'm not going anywhere."

They spend the next day trying to avoid lingering eye contact. Olivia doesn't bring him coffee when she gets up for hers because they'll brush fingers with the hand-off. Elliot doesn't put his hand on the small of her back when they leave to interview a witness. And when Fin suggests they join he and Munch for drinks at the end of a long week, they quickly decline, garnering strange looks from their colleagues.

"Gotta pick up Eli," he offers, shuffling folders before putting them in his outbox. "It's my weekend."

"Raincheck guys," Olivia excuses.

"You got a better offer?" Munch asks. "A hot date maybe?"

Elliot's eyes snap in her direction, waiting for a response.

"Absolutely," she answers. "With a bottle of wine and my Netflix subscription," she adds with a smirk.

He tries to hide the relief in his eyes, but she notices.

"Let's go old man," Fin says to John. "You're buying the first round."

"You know, if we had our own bar, we wouldn't have to worry about that," Munch points out.

"Here we go," Fin says.

"A place that's for everybody, not just cops," he continues. "A classier establishment with great lighting that morning after regrets can't be blamed on."

Olivia laughs.

Elliot shakes his head as the two men walk towards the elevator.

"Did I leave my jacket in the car?" She asks, watching him shut his computer down.

"Nah, you put it in your locker when we got back."

"Thanks."

Olivia heads upstairs and when she returns grabs her purse from her bottom desk drawer.

"Enjoy your weekend," she tells him, moving towards the box on a string.

"Hold on," Elliot says. "I'll walk you out."

It's been a week and they haven't touched one another or so much as held eye contact for too long. They also never finished the conversation regarding the night they spent together in Olivia's apartment.

"You and Eli have big plans for the weekend?"

He smiles, shakes his head in the negative.

"Not really, the Children's Museum, whatever movie he's attached to these days, reading with him so he can work on building his vocabulary," he responds. "And he loves trains so maybe I'll get him a new one."

"Daddy stuff."

"Yeah," he nods. "Daddy stuff."

As much as he wants to talk about what happened, he also knows she'll shut him down just as soon as he breaches the subject. Perhaps she figures if they don't discuss it, they'll simply be able to bury it. And maybe their partnership can get back to the status quo.

But Elliot has realized something. He doesn't _want_ things back the way they were. Yes, they screwed the first few times. But their last encounter was different.

He slowed down and every kiss, every caress was an effort to learn her body. Elliot now knows what makes her moan and cry out. He was only awake for a few minutes before his alarm went off. But it was long enough to remember how good his partner felt in his arms.

No one seems to be wise that anything has changed between them. They sufficiently close cases and they've argued less during the last week than they have in the entirety they've known each other except maybe their first year. One might even say they were getting along better. That in and of itself should be a dead giveaway but perhaps everyone is just enjoying a consistent truce.

Guess there's something to be said for rupturing the bubble of sexual tension. Although, how do you get something you've wanted for so long…and not want more?

"Liv," he begins, as the elevator doors open. "I know you don't wanna talk about what happened."

"But?"

To their surprise the car is empty once it reaches their floor.

"I just wanna make sure we're okay," he answers, taking a step closer.

"We're fine," Olivia assures him. "We just…need time is all."

"You think this attraction between us is just gonna wear off?" He asks, moving towards her again.

"We can't have a 'friends with benefits' type of partnership Elliot," she contends but makes no move to recreate the space he's taking.

"I know," he says, closing the distance before reaching for her hand. He leans in, touching his lips to her right ear. "I want more than that," he whispers.

Her pulse races, his mouth waters.

Before she realizes what she's doing and where they are, Olivia's other hand is on the back of his neck and she's turned her face towards his. There's a slight hesitation before their lips connect, slowly and tenderly sliding against each other's before he opens her mouth, tasting her again.

For long moments Olivia allows herself to forget the walls she's spent the week rebuilding. His hands frame her face as hers drop to Elliot's back, pulling him against her. They kiss as if it's natural, as if they've had years of physical intimacy together instead of just one passionate unplanned night.

When the elevator jolts them to a halt, she takes her hands off him and steps back like she's been burned.

"Damn you," she rasps, hand over her mouth trying to catch her breath. "Shit," she adds rushing off the elevator the second the doors open.

"Liv, wait!"

She's halfway across the lobby before he catches up to her.

"Wait?" She asks, incredulously as she stops to face him. "Wait for what Elliot?"

"To talk," he answers. "We can't keep pretending."

Olivia looks around nervously as a few stragglers from other detective units move past them to leave for the night.

"We've been pretending a _hell_ of a lot longer than just this week," she rasps. "Things are back to normal so let's just…let's not do this okay?"

"Normal?" He questions. "What just happened was anything but."

Wordlessly, they agree that talking about something so personal within the walls of the precinct isn't the best idea. Elliot follows as she continues beyond the double doors and outside into the night. They stop when they reach his personal SUV about a block away, leaning shoulder to shoulder against it watching the street traffic.

"Why are you pushing this?"

"Because I know it's not just me," he surprises her with. "It wasn't just me last week and it sure as hell wasn't just me five minutes ago," he says. "Look…I know it's messy."

"It's more than messy, Elliot," she tells him. "You're talkin' about the end of our partnership," she adds. "Do you even know what the hell you want?"

"I want…" he begins but can't finish.

"See," Olivia says, turning to face him. "You may not know but_ I_ do," she tells him. "I want your face on the other side of my desk come Monday," she begins. "I want your name next to mine on our case files," she goes on. "I wanna keep saying 'I'm Detective Benson and this is my _partne_r, Detective Stabler', like we've been doing for over a fucking decade."

She moves to walk away, and he puts a hand around her elbow, dropping it after seeing the look of determination in her eyes. Even though they had an incredibly recent saliva exchange, Olivia is confident that she's made her point.

"Liv I-"

"Don't you have to pick up your son?"

"Shit," he says, eyeing his watch. "I gotta go."

"I know."

"But Liv—"

"Like I said Elliot," she interrupts. "We're good. Things have been working between us as they are for a very long time," she continues. "Last week is no reason to change that."

"I disagree."

He holds her eyes for long moments before Olivia notices his gaze slip to her lips then he's unashamedly trailing her body from head to toe with a predatory glare. By the time he's finished she's slightly flushed as if he's used his hands and judging by the smirk on his face, the man sure as hell notices.

Speechless, she simply watches as he climbs into his Grand Cherokee.

"We'll talk more later," he rasps after powering the window down.

She's left standing alone in the street staring after him and wondering what the hell just happened. The way Elliot looked her over, Olivia has the feeling that what she said and what he heard are two very different things. She was clear on wanting to put the walls back up and keeping them there.

But if her body continues betraying her, Elliot will only take it as a personal challenge to change her mind.

"Fuck."

**END A/N: For some strange reason Elliot is having trouble believing Olivia wants to return to the comfort and complacency of their awesomely platonic partnership. Could be that she keeps allowing his tongue in her mouth but hey, maybe it's something else, lol. Patience people. The story will unfold when it unfolds. My continued gratitude for those who not only read but take the time to key that all important review.**


	3. Distraction

**A/N: Very little response to the second chapter. Perhaps I should abandon this fic?**

They agreed that last Saturday was a mistake. They agreed their partnership was more important than the phenomenal sex. They subconsciously agreed that touching would be a bad idea. So why in the hell did Elliot think kissing her again was some damn stroke of brilliance?

And that smoldering look before he pulled off, what the fuck was that?

Olivia's panties are useless by the time she makes it back to her apartment, slamming her front door in frustration. She drops her things on the table by the door, then stalks into the kitchen for something to drink.

Maybe he would believe her rejection if she could learn to push him away or at the very least put up_ some_ type of resistance when he touches her. The man was married to one woman forever.

When the hell did he learn a thing or two about a thing or two?

And after what she thought were convincing assertions that they should let things get back to normal, he responds with a simple, _'I_ _disagree'_ and that they'd talk later. She doesn't_ want_ to talk any more about it she thinks, draining half the contents of a beer before crashing the bottle against the counter so hard it nearly shatters.

Talking about that particular subject has been leading to kissing, kissing has been leading to touching and if they weren't in that damn elevator at the time, she knows unequivocally that it would've led to a hell of a lot more.

Just as it did in the very kitchen in which she now stands.

"_With that kind of modesty, I don't know why some lucky bastard hasn't swept you off your feet already," he poked, making her laugh._

"_You should know," she told him. "You and this almost relationship is obviously blocking all the action I could be getting."_

_He shook his head but couldn't hide his grin._

_In two steps he planted his hands outside of hers that were resting on the counter, leaned down eying her lips to make her aware of his intentions. The kiss began soft and tender. But after Olivia coaxed his mouth open by suckling on his lower lip, things quickly grew more passionate._

_Instantly their hands were on each other. Hers around his neck, his around her waist pulling her closer, melding their bodies together._

_He dropped his mouth first to nibble and suck on her ear, then to her neck, turning her on further with the warmth of his open mouth on that erogenous spot at her pulse point._

_She moaned her appreciation, moving her palms beneath his t-shirt to the waiting heat of his abdomen, then his chest. _

_His taste and touch shouldn't have felt so damn familiar, but it did. Consumed by a desire for more of his skin, she moved to lift his shirt and he quickly shed it, tossing it to the floor before returning his lips to hers._

_Elliot slipped a hand beneath the waist of her yoga pants, wasting no time seeking out her folds, pleasantly surprised at the moisture he found. She lifted a leg around his thigh, encouraging the ministration of his rough fingertips. _

_She penetrated his mouth again with her tongue as he mimicked the same down below, creating a duality of the sweetest friction._

_Unhurriedly he began but increased his speed, using her moans to direct his actions. It wasn't long before she was undulating her hips against his hand._

"_God," she managed, before her first orgasm took over and he felt her walls clenching around his digits._

_In her recovery, Elliot allowed her to simply breathe on his lips. When she pulled his fingers from her flushed body, he thought it was over. After watching Olivia lick his index and middle clean while her eyes darkened with desire, he knew they were just getting started._

_He eagerly pushed her yoga pants with her underwear down her legs as she stepped out of them. Hastily he picked her up, turned her and sat her on the nearest counter as she grabbed for his jean's button and zipper._

_Olivia found as she bared him, that apparently it was laundry day because there was neither boxers nor Jockey briefs in sight. The only complaint she had as he rubbed his shaft against her center, covering himself in her essence, was that he wasn't already inside her._

_She hinted at her want by shifting to the counter's edge. Elliot smiled in an all-consuming kiss before inching his way through her folds. It felt so fucking good, so fucking right, so fucking terrifyingly natural that she wrapped her legs around him yielding at least an inch more of closeness. _

"_Shit," he said. "I gotta move Liv."_

_Olivia loosened her legs as he began a steady pace inside her. She released his shoulders and grasped the lip of the counter to help move against him. He was primal in the taking of his partner, rolling his hips as their combined scents and the smell of their joining permeated the air in her kitchen._

_Elliot clasped her hips in his strong hands, buried his face in the juncture of her neck to lick and subtly mark her with tender bites to the delicate flesh he found there. She released one palm from the counter to hold him against her by his nape, encouraging each stroke of his tongue._

_The resonance of their quickened breaths and moans were the ambient sounds to their forbidden meeting. _

_Dropping a hand between them, he moved his thumb feverishly against her sensitive nub, prompting the firing of nerve endings and a scream her partner had never been privy to as she clenched around him. Elliot was pulled into his own orgasm as Olivia seized and pulsed in wave after glorious wave of intimate motion._

_As her heart calmed and her breathing returned to her pre-aroused state, she was as speechless as Elliot. And even though she knew they shouldn't have just done what they had, Olivia's mind supplied one, repetitive thought._

_The second he was ready, she wanted him again._

Her hands begin to tremble as they rest on the very counter where their first tryst occurred. In truth, she knows they can never go back to their so-called normal. But it won't stop her from trying.

"It can't happen again," she repeats the new mantra to herself, returning the bottle of Shock Top to her lips.

She shouldn't be wondering if he goes commando every day and if she went to his apartment right now and lowered his zipper…

"Dammit!" She yells, threading her fingers through her honey streaked hair.

What Olivia needs is a date. To go out and find someone to make her forget about the ridiculous amount of sex she had with her partner and the chemistry that has characterized their bond since the beginning.

She's not looking for a soulmate.

Just someone that will take her mind off Elliot's dimples, his eyes when they darken in lust, his ass in and out of any pair of pants, his skillful hands and the way he looks at her when they're alone.

The scary part is, it's not just desire but has evolved into something more.

Friday night, she continues with her plans. Soaks in a hot tub before changing into her most comfortable pajamas, orders Thai and binge-watches some mindless Netflix series. But the next night is a different story.

Olivia showers, does her hair and makeup, slips into her favorite lingerie and dons a sexy knee-length dress. It compliments her curves, highlights her neckline without dipping too far into her cleavage and doesn't scream of desperation. After one last look in the mirror, she taxis to an Upper West Side restaurant for a drink.

She rejects the advances of three men in the first half hour before a good prospect sits down next to her at the bar.

"So, have you been shooting men down for sport or do you have a goal in mind?" Asks the new stranger.

Olivia turns to find an impeccably dressed, dark haired, onyx-eyed bearded man sitting on her right. She's instantly reminded of the actor Blair Underwood but he's bulkier. And when he smiles, his teeth are naturally perfect and beautifully white.

Tall, dark and handsome indeed.

"I wouldn't say it's for sport," she answers. "Just waiting for something better."

"And what would a man have to do to prove he was the _'something better'_?" He asks.

"Well, so far you've looked me in the eye, haven't invaded my personal space within ten seconds of seeing me and haven't offered to buy me a drink when I clearly have one in front of me," she tells him with a grin. "So far you're already something better."

"Marcus," he says, offering his hand.

"Olivia," she responds, making brief contact before pulling away. "Nice to meet you."

"You too," he tells her. "I don't see a ring so was it your boyfriend or _ex_-boyfriend that pissed you off?"

"Is that your way of asking if I'm single?"

He laughs.

"Uh no," Marcus offers. "Just making an observation," he continues. "I see an attractive woman, perfect makeup, beautiful dress, sitting alone in a bar on a Saturday night and I think—

"That I'm either going through a break-up or a fight," she concludes. "But maybe I'm meeting someone and they're late or I got stood up."

He laughs again, deep and open making her smile.

"Late I'd buy, but standing _you_ up?" He asks. "I take it you've seen a mirror."

"Looks aren't everything."

"Too true. You're absolutely right," he agrees. "Chemistry and great communication are very important as well," he adds. "So, you're telling me you're not fighting with the man in your life?"

"How do you know it isn't a woman?"

Marcus smiles and shakes his head.

"You don't make it easy to get to know you, do you?" He asks.

"To answer your question," she begins. "It's…complicated," she goes with. "But no, I'm not married or in a relationship."

Denial is a funny thing.

"But you _are_ fighting with someone?" He asks, eyebrows raised.

"Not really fighting just…having a difference of opinion," she explains.

"But not with a significant other?"

"No, my partner."

"But you just said—"

"I'm a cop."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," she answers.

"Hard work," Marcus acknowledges. "I have a brother on the job," he reveals. "He's on his second marriage."

"Well at least he's not too jaded by love to keep trying," Olivia says. "So, what is it that you do Marcus?"

"I'm an entrepreneur," he said. "More specifically, a restauranteur at the moment."

"You own this place?"

"Yes," he answers, looking around as if proud of himself. "For the last year or so," he adds. "Before that I just managed a few local spots," he continues. "Worked my way through college tending bar, got my MBA and…it was a natural transition."

"No wonder you're such a good listener," Olivia comments. "Bartenders are basically lesser trained shrinks," she laughs.

He joins in, they continue talking, moderately flirting and before either of them realizes, it's closing time.

"Wow 1 a.m.," Olivia says eyeing her watch.

They'd long ago moved to a table, ordered and had dinner, dessert and switched to wine.

"You're right," he says. "I own the place and apparently didn't notice it thinning out or the wait staff cleaning up," he continues. "Guess I was enjoying your company a little too much."

"The feeling's mutual," she admits with a smile, touching his arm. "But I think it's time to call it a night."

"I think you're right," he agrees, standing and pulling out her chair. "I'd better get to the office before my manager tracks me down, but I'll walk you out."

She grabs her trench coat, Marcus helps her with it on and his hand is warm against the small of her back as they move towards the exit. He hails a cab and a few minutes later Olivia is stepping inside. He slips his card in her palm then closes the door.

"I had a really good time tonight Olivia," he says. "If you want something _less _complicated, maybe you'll give me a call, no pressure."

She grins at the comment. If he only knew.

"I think I will," Olivia tells him.

The situation with her partner was the last thing on her mind for the last several hours and for that reason alone, she's calling tonight a success. She smiles the entire cab ride home.

Once there she scrubs her face of makeup, changes into a t-shirt and sleep shorts then climbs into bed. Olivia texts her thanks to Marcus for a great evening so he has her number. He responds and shortly after she's asleep. Her dreams are peaceful, her sleep, restorative. When she awakes the next morning, she's hungry for a good breakfast.

Marcus calls after and they make lunch plans. Casually dressed in dark jeans, a Kelly-green shell, tan leather jacket and matching heels, she meets him at a café not far from her apartment. The conversation is just as easy as it was the night before. Olivia probably learns more about him the two instances they've met than the entire time she's known Elliot.

He's one of three kids, engaged once but never married, lost his dad last year to pancreatic cancer and manages to volunteer with a mentoring program twice a week. She's not going to call him perfect just yet. Everyone has their quirks. But so far, he's just the distraction Olivia needs.

They end their date outside her building with a hug, short kiss on the cheek and a plan to meet again. She's damn near floating by the time she makes it to her floor. That is, until she sees the one person she's successfully avoided thinking about, turning to leave after knocking.

"I'm not home," Olivia says, surprising him.

He smiles at the sound of her voice.

"Hey."

"What are you doing here?" She asks.

"Dropped Eli off early for a playdate about two blocks from here," he explains. "Thought we could talk."

"So, you really were just in the neighborhood?"

"Yes," he grins. "I promise."

She shakes her head as she approaches him in his gray Henley, light-colored jeans and sneakers.

"Were you out with someone?"

Olivia looks at him over her shoulder as she keys open the door.

"Yes Elliot, I went on a date," she answers. "And even if you were in the neighborhood, I thought we agreed seeing each other outside the job was a bad idea."

"We did," he says, following her inside. "But I only wanna talk Liv," he continues. "Don't you think that would be better than trying, unsuccessfully I might add, to pretend that nothing happened?" He asks. "And when did you have time to meet someone?"

"I meet people all the time," she explains, stepping out of her heels. "I just don't put it in the monthly newsletter or broadcast it to everyone at the squad," she adds, entering the kitchen and pulling open the fridge.

He makes himself comfortable in her armchair, watches as she approaches with two bottles of water in her hands.

"I know," he says, accepting the Fiji. "You deserve that. I was being selfish, telling you I wanted more without asking what _you_ wanted," he goes on. "Which is clearly exploring better options than a divorced father of five."

"El—"

"No, it's okay," Elliot tells her. "As long as he's good to you I don't have a problem with him," he explains, standing. "I'm gonna go."

"Elliot, wait."

"Before you found out I was on a date, you said you came over to talk," she reminds him. "Why are you rushing out of here so fast?"

"I decided you have the right idea," he answers. "Maybe I should get out and meet someone too."

"If that's what you came to tell me then great," Olivia agrees. "Sounds like you've come to your senses about wanting…_more_," she adds. "We can't exactly date each other."

"And what would be that point of that anyway?" He asks.

"Right, because we've already had sex."

"No," he says, shaking his head. "Because the point of dating is to get to know each other," he answers stepping closer. "And if all six Jeopardy categories were about you, I'd go on that show and clean up."

"You don't know everything," she protests but can't help smiling at his confidence.

"Oh really?" He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. "You keeping secrets from me after over a decade of partnership, Benson?"

"A woman has to keep _some_ mystery about herself," she answers with a smirk.

"I know you like to binge-watch Arrested Development on your off days 'cause it makes you laugh," he begins. "I know you like to reread the classics like _To Kill a Mockingbird_ and _The_ _Woman in White_ because it makes you think of your mom," he continues. "And I also know that just because you stopped talking about it, doesn't mean you still don't want a child of your own."

This time it's Olivia who steps closer, drawn to him not solely due to physical attraction but emotional connection.

"_I_ know that because of that case involving Porter and Rojas, you go to the range every morning after your workouts," she surprises him with. "You've exchanged the treadmill for the elliptical because you don't wanna make your knees worse," she continues. "And on the nights you don't have to pick up Eli, you make it a point to drive me home."

With every word Benson's coming to her own realizations. It's a wonder she's been a detective so long, she reflects.

She should've noticed the changes months ago.

"Well, you're always saving my ass or your own," he starts, stuffing his hands down his front pockets. "I figured I may wanna be able to return the favor."

As Olivia steps closer, he eyes the carpet, uncharacteristically shy after his admission. She tilts her head trying to regain his attention.

"By becoming a sharp shooter, being able to best guys ten years younger in a foot race and making sure I get home every night?"

Elliot looks around the room before slowly meeting her eyes again, deciding he's admitted so much already. He may as well go all in.

"A week ago, that night…when did you notice that I—

"The last time," she interrupts. "When you caressed my face, ran your fingers through my hair, whispered those sweet things in my ear," she goes on. "You were moving so slow, being so tender with me almost…reverent," she continues. "I saw it in your eyes."

"Are we really talking about this?" Elliot asks.

"Seems like we are," she responds.

He steps back, takes his jacket off and has a seat on her sofa. Olivia isn't long to follow.

"I think we can both agree that things changed for us both after that psychopath held a gun to my head five years ago," he begins. "You left, you came back and left again."

Olivia nods her agreement.

"We argued like politicians the second time I returned," she reminds him. "But we eventually found our rhythm again."

"True," Elliot concurs. "But I didn't trust it," he reveals. "Another shitty case happened, and I wanted what was familiar instead of taking the chance that I could fuck up and make you leave again," he excuses. "Maybe for good."

"Then along came Eli," Olivia concludes. "You want a beer?"

He declines and watches as she moves into the kitchen. Elliot gets comfortable in one corner of her couch, resting his arm along the back. When she returns, he's sipping on his bottle of Fiji as she sits down not too far away.

"I love my kids Liv."

"I know you do Elliot," she asserts. "I've never questioned that."

"And as wrong as I knew going back home was, I had to try."

"I know that too."

"But I knew it wouldn't last."

"How so?"

"Always a case," he answers. "Wanting to give you a child when those women lost their embryos, Rook taking you hostage and making me think he was torturing you, thinking you'd been hit when Porter took that shot, and the list goes on."

Olivia takes a much-needed swallow of beer before resting it on her coffee table.

"I honestly don't know what to say," she admits, facing him completely. "The thought that I had anything to do with your marriage ending, makes me sick."

Elliot scoots closer, takes her hands in his.

"It wasn't your fault it ended," he asserts. "It's something that needed to happen."

"Why?" Olivia asks, eying their hands as he caresses her fingers with his thumb.

"When not losing you became more important that holding on to a dead marriage, I knew it was over," he explains before taking a deep breath. "And I know how that sounds but it's really not your fault…that I fell in love with you."

Her eyes snap to his immediately.

"I didn't say that just to hear you repeat it," he asserts. "But if you're gonna continue dating whoever Mr. Wonderful is that put the smile on your face I saw earlier, I want you to have all the facts," he continues. "Since you know, you meet people _all_ the time."

Elliot leans in, places a chaste kiss on her lips then stands up, releasing his hold. He enters her kitchen, drops his empty Fiji bottle into the recycle bin and returns to find her watching him.

"What am I supposed to do with all this Elliot?"

He grabs his jacket puts it on, heading for the front door.

"I've been letting my circumstances dictate my decisions my whole life Liv," he says as she stands. "I knocked up my girlfriend in high school, so I married her, enlisted in the Marines," he explains. "And everything after was pretty much for my family," he adds. "But, last year when I handed the papers to Kathy, that was the first time in a long time, I can remember doing something for me, for all of us really."

"What about last week?" Olivia asks, moving closer. "Was that for you too?"

"I don't think it was a conscious decision," he responds. "But I _can_ say for sure that I've wanted to kiss you for a hell of a lot longer than just this past year Liv," he goes on. "Correct me if I'm wrong but I know I'm not alone in that."

"You're not," she admits. "But I don't wanna be your rebound relationship Elliot," she says. "I don't have a lot of friends and you're the only partner I want," she tells him. "If we continued acting on what's between us and it didn't work—

"You're scared," Elliot surmises. "So am I but you know the rebound talk is bullshit."

"I'm not friends with any of my exes," she informs him. "It's a lot to lose."

"Why do you assume you'll lose anything?" He asks. "Why do you assume it won't work out?"

She takes a deep breath, shakes her head and looks anywhere but him. Her eyes water at the idea of such a big risk.

"This is…this is_ us_ El," she says, swiping away tears. "And yeah, the potential, both good and bad, it terrifies me."

"You've treated this job like I've treated my family," he tells her. "You love it, so you let it dictate your life choices," he goes on. "Not marrying, waiting to have a child, even not trying to move up in rank," he points out. "But whatever decision you make about all this…do it for _you_ Liv, whatever that looks like."

Elliot removes any distance between them, slides both hands through her locks then leans his forehead against hers. She puts her arms around him, resting her palms on his back.

"Do it for _you_ Liv," he repeats in a whisper against her lips. "See you Monday."

He pulls away quickly, seemingly before he can do anything to further complicate things for her, and leaves.

"Monday."

**A/N: I'd appreciate some feedback people. Then again, silence is also a response. **


	4. Monday

**A/N: I appreciate the overwhelming response to the last chapter. I love all the support and encouragement to continue. I may be just another fanfic writer, but I put a lot of work, time and thought into spinning these tales. And since I'm not getting a check, lol, it's great to get reviews to hear what people think and how much they appreciate my efforts. **

Olivia's sleep was the opposite of peaceful after talking to Elliot and it damn sure wasn't recuperative. Her partner of twelve years confessed to being in love with her. And she's been suppressing her feelings so long she doesn't know what to think about his revelations.

But it's not just his declaration that has her reeling. It's his pure honesty without pressure and uncharacteristic patience. Elliot wants her to take her time, explore her own feelings and desires and decide whether she wants to pursue a relationship with him subsequently ending their partnership.

He left the ball completely in her court and it's…unnerving.

Her partner knows she was out with someone else and all but told her to continue. When Porter came sniffing around, Elliot stopped just short of pissing on her leg to mark her as his territory. Now he wants her to ignore what he's told her, ignore the job and do something for herself.

Who the hell is this pod person and what has he done with the real Elliot Stabler?

The ringing of the phone jars her from her rampant thoughts. As she looks at the caller ID she's none too surprised to find it's Marcus on the other end.

"Good morning," he says.

"Morning," she tells him.

"How'd you sleep?"

"Honestly?" She asks.

"Always."

"Not well," she offers. "I have a lot on my mind."

"Is it that complicated partnership of yours?" He asks. "You two still having a difference of opinion?"

"I don't know."

"Olivia," he begins. "Look…I like you. You're intelligent, funny, quick-witted and easy as hell on the eyes."

She responds with a much-needed laugh.

"You're not so bad yourself," she says. "And I feel a 'but' coming on."

"Right, and here it is," he continues. "_But_…I feel like you're going through something with your partner."

"Marcus it's not—"

"You don't owe me any explanations," he interrupts. "That brother of mine I was telling you about had his own 'complications' with _his_ partner," he reveals. "And now she's his second wife."

"Wow."

"And I gotta say," he starts. "I've never seen him happier."

"How long were they partnered?"

"Eight years," Marcus answers. "Six months after his divorce they started seeing each other," he says. "It was a little rough at work for awhile but in the end…he says he wouldn't change a damn thing."

"I don't know what to say."

"Give yourself a break Olivia," he tells her. "I'm sure if you mull it over, it's nowhere near as complicated as you think it is."

Again, she laughs.

"Why couldn't I have met you 5 or 6 years ago?"

"Damn woman it's been that long?" He asks, laughing. "I never had a chance."

In that moment, she realizes just how true that is.

"Maybe not," Olivia admits. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, no worries," he tells her. "If things don't work out and some lucky woman hasn't beaten you to it, feel free to call me."

"I'll keep that in mind," she promises.

"Goodbye Olivia."

"Bye Marcus."

Monday is ushered in with a cacophonous storm. The thunder is so loud it wakes her an hour before her alarm. Lightning flashes brightly enough to intrude through her lids, preventing any further rest.

Not that she was getting much anyway.

The previous day's conversation with her partner stirred up the images of their last time together. Any chance at slumber was severely hindered after that. She lies awake, staring at the ceiling willing her racing heart to slow and her mind's eye to choose damn near any other set of visuals.

_They laid on her carpet laughing, side by side after another vigorous round of sex. Elliot on his back, Olivia on her stomach, head resting on her folded arms as she faced him. What began on her sofa, ended enthusiastically on her living room floor. _

"_We really shouldn't have done that," Olivia said, trying to be serious but failing miserably._

_He turned on his side, using his arm like a kickstand as he looked down on her attempt to hide a smile while biting her lower lip._

"_Which time?" He asked, moving the throw he covered them with to draw lazy, nonsensical patterns on the small of her back. "I'll take credit for the first, but the second time you pounced on top of me."_

_She laughed while trying to ignore how her skin was heating at his touch._

"_I didn't hear you complaining," she pointed out. "Especially when you finally got me out of that Rangers jersey and down to nothing."_

"_And you won't," Elliot told her. "I'm a lot of things, but stupid ain't one of 'em," he added, lowering his mouth to place a short kiss on her shoulder. "Plus, it would've been hard to bitch about anything with my mouth attached to one of your breasts."_

_Olivia laughed again at his reasoning._

"_If you were so happy with that position then why the hell did we end up on this floor?" She asked. "With, from what I can see, my living room looking like a tornado ripped through it?"_

_Her partner smiled like a Cheshire cat. The coffee table was pushed about five feet from its usual position, the magazines normally resting on the surface scattered on the floor, a lamp was overturned, and she was pretty sure there was a superficial bite mark on her right shoulder._

"_Well I always say I have your back," he told her. "And as much as I enjoyed you riding me like a mechanical bull, I've long since appreciated this particular view," he added, momentarily palming and squeezing one of the cheeks of her voluptuous ass._

_Being taken from behind by her partner wasn't exactly a sacrifice. And touching her the way he was, was getting her aroused yet again. Olivia closed her eyes, swallowing hard trying to fight off the temptation of sliding on top of him once more._

"_Shower," she said, suddenly sitting up. "I need a shower," she explained, throwing him a large pillow to cover himself as she rose and wrapped their shared blanket around her body. "And no Elliot, that's not an invitation."_

"_Right, right," he said. "Because we shouldn't have done that," he mimicked. "The first, second or third time," he added with a smirk._

_She shook her head at him as she moved towards her bedroom._

"_Why don't you clean up out here," Olivia threw out. "And maybe order us something to eat."_

_Elliot tossed a pillow at her retreating form. She didn't have to turn and look to know it was the one he was supposed to be covering himself with._

_After her shower, she blow-dried her hair, moisturized her skin with her favorite vanilla and brown sugar scented body lotion and donned a burgundy cami with matching plaid pajama pants._

"_Well aren't you adorable," Elliot said as she returned to her living room._

_He'd cleaned it up just as she asked, putting everything exactly how it was before they so excitedly rearranged things._

"_You're hilarious," she said, seating herself at the kitchen counter. "What's for dinner?"_

_Olivia watched as he removed two cartons from a bag. He had remained barefoot but put his t-shirt and jeans back on. _

"_It's getting late, so I went light," he explained. "Mediterranean salad for you with tomatoes, peppers, red onions, etc," he answers. "Strawberry salad for me with candied walnuts, mandarin oranges, spinach and feta cheese."_

_She gave him a look, grinned and winked._

"_Why do I get the feeling we're gonna be sharing or switching altogether?" He asked._

_Olivia pulled the strawberry salad towards her, grabbed a fork, then searched the bag for something else. Another smile graced her face when he produced two lid covered cups of vinaigrette._

"_You know me so well," she told him. _

"_Even better now," he said, waggling his eyebrows and making her laugh. _

"_You're incorrigible," Olivia returned. "I know you just cleaned up, but can we move this back to the sofa?" She asked, eying a clock on the wall. "There's an NCIS marathon I wanna see."_

_He looked at her with disbelief while gathering his salad and bottles of water for them._

"_What?" She asked as she plopped down on the couch._

"_I like that show too," he confessed with a shrug of his shoulders. "Interesting cases, hard-ass for a boss and though he can be a dick, Tony and Ziva have good chemistry."_

_It was her turn to look surprised._

"_What's that look about?" Elliot asked as she grabbed the remote. "I'm a romantic at heart." _

_She channel surfed for about a minute before finding the show. They ate in companionable silence and when they were finished, Olivia took her turn to clean up. When she returned from the kitchen, she found her partner looking drowsy and comfortable with his feet on her coffee table._

_She was struck suddenly by the idea that it looked as if he belonged there and it put such fear in her that Olivia was about to make excuses as to why he should leave._

"_Liv," he began as she returned to her spot on the sofa. "I'm beat, you mind if I stay here tonight?"_

"_Here?"_

"_Yeah Liv, it's almost midnight, it's pouring outside and truth be told…you wore me out," he added, hoping for a smile. _

_He didn't know why her playful demeanor had suddenly changed._

"_Um, okay," she said, noticing the rain for the first time. "Of course, you're welcome to stay here."_

_Despite the sex they had, he was still just her partner, Olivia thought. There was no reason to start thinking more nights like the one they just enjoyed were in their future._

"_Thanks," he told her as he rose from the couch. "You mind if I use your shower?"_

"_No go ahead," she responds. "I'll try to find something for you to wear."_

She should've just given him an umbrella and told him to take the subway if he was so tired. It may have saved her from the need to think about potentially life-changing decisions.

When she arrives to work, Olivia is surprised to find Elliot already at his desk going through a case file and sipping on the last of whatever cup of coffee he's on.

"Morning," she says.

"Morning."

"Been here long?"

"Not too long," he tells her. "Maybe 20-30 minutes."

"Anything come in?" She asks, putting her purse in her bottom drawer.

"Not yet," he answers. "I've been going over the Davies case," he adds. "I think I have an idea about where Lucas James may be hiding out."

Olivia walks over to the coffee station to prepare her first cup of the day. He gets up to follow, continuing their conversation.

"He has a cousin in Red Hook," he begins watching as she prepares a cup the way she knows he enjoys it. "According to Samantha Davies, they're thick as thieves and either he knows where Lucas is hiding or he's hiding the prick himself."

She hands him the coffee, grazing his fingers with the hand-off. Elliot notices, thanks her as she begins making her own.

"As long as I've been doing this job, I'll never understand how raping someone is punishment for a break-up," Olivia tells him. "But like you said, when love warps into hate, there's nothing someone won't do."

"Yeah but I doubt a broken heart suddenly turned him into a rapist," Elliot contends as they return to their desks. "If we talked to his high school girlfriends or even women he's worked with they'd probably all say the same thing," he adds. "Sweet, thoughtful and kind until you say no to him."

"A real Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde."

Munch and Fin walk in ten minutes apart and the four gathers in Cragen's office to firm up plans on tracking down Lucas James.

"John," the captain begins. "You and Fin check his job just in case he was stupid enough to show up for work," he continues.

"I really hope he was," Fin offers. "Makes things easier when they're dumbasses."

"Elliot, you and Olivia check the address you found for James' cousin," he tells them. "I've called the Brooklyn SVU captain and he says you can have two unis meet you," he adds. "Just radio in when you get there."

"Ten-four Cap," Stabler says.

"Oh, and one more thing," Don begins. "I want everyone to be very careful," he tells them. "Lucas James was in the Army, he has tactical training and if he feels trapped or like he has nothing left to lose—

"We get it Cap," John says. "And if he's not at the office, we'll join El and Liv in Brooklyn."

"Alright people keep me in the loop," he says. "Phones charged, spare batteries for the radios," he goes on. "You find him, you call for back up and do not underestimate how bad he wants to stay out of prison."

"We get it Cap, we'll be careful," Olivia tells him.

**End A/N: Are they ever really careful? They just can't seem to help themselves. This chap included more of their Saturday night tryst. The last half will be included in the next and will explain how things changed for them both. Thanks in advance to all who take time to review!**


	5. Complications

**A/N: Thanks for the positive response to the last chapter. Here's the next installment. Hope you enjoy.**

The address Elliot found is to a small, abandoned paper factory. Miles James is a contractor who is repurposing the two-story brick building into a set of lofts, currently unfinished. A late model Jeep is parked in the alley adjacent to the property.

"Look El," Olivia says, pointing out the vehicle as he drives. "Same make, model, color and plate number."

"Go ahead and radio for the unis," he tells her. "Tell 'em no lights and sirens," he adds. "We don't wanna spook the guy."

After the uniformed officers arrive, Olivia and Elliot approach the main entrance while Officer Lakesha Johnson covers the fire escape and Officer Michael Ramirez has the rear.

Inside, Lucas is drinking whiskey and doing lines of cocaine off a makeshift table. Nearby is a fully loaded .40 caliber H&K handgun. He startles when he hears banging on the door below.

"Lucas James this is the NYPD, we have a warrant!" Elliot yells. "Open the door!"

He grabs his gun, stuffs it in the back of his waistband, scrambles to the closest window and heads down the fire escape. When he looks below he sees Johnson.

"NYPD, stop where you are!"

"Fuck you!" He shouts, scrambling back up the steps and back into the window. Dust and debris are kicked up against the hardwood floor as he runs through the nearest doorway and down a wide set of steps.

"Suspect spotted from the fire escape," Johnson radios. "He's back inside and on the move."

On the other side of the room, Elliot kicks through the front door just as Lucas's feet hit the first level. The two detectives have their guns drawn, winding through a room full of columns, broken glass, debris, trash and construction materials.

Lucas spots them first, draws his weapon and fires several shots in their direction. The bullets can be heard by the two detectives, whizzing by their bodies, sending them to opposite sides of the room.

"Son of a bitch," Olivia says, taking cover.

"Southeast corner," Elliot tells her, doing the same. "He's headed out the back."

"Ramirez he's coming your way," radios Olivia. "He's armed and already shot at us."

Lucas barrels through the solid back door, hitting Ramirez, knocking him down hard, head impacting the pavement. He runs for his Jeep, keys in hand. The cagey suspect encounters Johnson again, immediately opening fire on her, hitting her shoulder.

James steps over her, takes her gun and continues towards the alley, hoping to reach his Jeep before another cop shows up.

Elliot and Olivia encounter Ramirez first, help him up and the three of them continue the pursuit of Lucas. They hear the shots fired at Johnson and take cover. When the three of them encounters his partner on the ground, Ramirez drags her to safety and radios for further assistance as the two detectives continue down the alley.

"Stop where you are!" Olivia yells as Lucas lays his hand on the Jeep door.

He turns to fire, getting off several shots before being put down by two bullets to the chest, center mass. Olivia rushes over, kicks away the gun in his hand and checks the suspect for signs of life.

Lucas James is dead.

One officer may have a concussion, another a hole in her shoulder. And her partner. Her partner hasn't said anything. When she looks over to where he was standing, he's now leaning against the brick exterior of the structure.

"El?"

Olivia watches as he touches his abdomen just below the Kevlar vest, sees his hand come away wet with blood.

"Fuck," he says. "I think I'm hit."

"Elliot!"

The sirens are already in the distance from Ramirez's radio call. She rushes over as he slides down the cold, rough surface of the building, leaving a dark red trail. Olivia places both hands over the wound to apply pressure.

"You're gonna be fine baby," she tells him. "You're gonna be okay."

"What are the fucking odds, huh?" He asks. "I remember to wear my vest and still manage to get shot."

Olivia hears the sirens stop, and brakes squeal to a halt at the mouth of the alley.

"We're down here!" She screams. "Here!"

Munch and Fin arrive with guns drawn before Olivia waves them off, tells them the scene is clear.

"Just get the damn paramedics down here," she tells them. "Elliot's been shot and so has Officer Johnson," she informs them. "Ramirez may have a concussion."

Fin waves over several paramedics who hurry into the alleyway with two gurneys. One rolls towards Johnson and Ramirez, the other to Elliot.

"What the hell happened?" Munch asks as they get him up and onto the stretcher.

"James ran out the back, clipped Ramirez with the door," Olivia begins. "Johnson was covering the east side of the building and saw him first, we heard them exchange gunfire and Johnson got hit in the shoulder," she continues. "Me and El gave chase while Ramirez tended to his partner, he shot at us, we returned fire."

Fin collects Elliot and Olivia's weapons, putting them in separate evidence bags. IAB will be hurling accusations sooner rather than later. Officer involved shootings are never just a matter of routine.

"I'll drive you to the hospital," Fin tells her, handing the bags off to John. "You know Tucker and his goon squad are gonna be sniffin' around you quick."

Olivia's looking at the tacky blood drying on her hands. Elliot's blood. She's hit with the metallic odor and it makes her slightly dizzy with panic. He was talking when the paramedics took him, but she knows gut shots are always complicated. This isn't some flesh wound that'll have him demanding to be discharged after just a few hours.

Elliot could die.

"Liv?"

"Huh?"

"I was saying we should get the hell outta here before the rat squad shows up," Fin repeats. "You okay?"

"Yeah fine, let's go."

Olivia can't lose him, can't even fathom the thought of what her life would be like without Elliot Stabler's presence in it. Now the thoughts and mental pictures that she so fervently wished away this morning, are a welcome distraction as they follow the ambulance to the hospital.

_After about ten minutes she got up to rummage through her dresser drawers, looking for something suitable for him to wear. She heard the water turn off and shortly after Elliot poked his head out the door._

"_Hey," he began, not expecting to see her there. "Spare toothbrush?"_

"_Uh yeah," she said. "Check under the sink."_

_He thanked her and closed the door. Olivia continued her search and found an old pair of sweat pants from an ex and a large t-shirt she 'borrowed' from her partner but failed to return._

_After she laid them on her dresser for him, the door opened behind her and Elliot stepped out clean, fresh and wrapped in one of her pale blue bath towels._

"_Those for me?"_

"_Yeah," she said. "Hope they fit okay," she added. "I'll let you get dressed."_

_Olivia turned to leave but he caught her by the elbow, prompting her to face him again._

"_What's up with you?" He asked, releasing his hold._

"_Nothing, I'm good."_

"_Bullshit," he contended. "Something's changed so just talk to me…please."_

_She shook her head, looking away before meeting his eyes._

"_All this…this whole day and into tonight," she began. "It's been good, great actually," she went on. "And so effortless it sort of…I don't know, hit me all at once."_

_He stepped closer, crossing his arms over his chest in a gesture of familiarity._

"_What hit you?"_

"_That Monday is gonna be here before we know it," she answered. "And we go back to being who we are."_

"_And who are we?"_

_Olivia took an exasperated breath, running her fingers through her hair. _

"_You know, Benson and Stabler…work partners."_

"_And here, we've just been Liv and El," he concluded, putting both arms around her waist as her palms slid instinctively to his bare chest. "Two people who spent the day enjoying the game, telling terribly inappropriate jokes and thoroughly enjoying the hell out of each other."_

_Once he made her laugh, her worries abated, and the easy atmosphere returned._

"_All true," Olivia agreed. "I actually expected you to be gone after I got out of the shower," she admitted. "That's how these things usually go for me."_

"_I don't know what things you're talking about," Elliot started, obviously lying. "But you will not make me feel used and cheap," he continued, making her laugh again. "Then cast me aside like I'm from some tawdry escort service." _

"_You should take this show on the road," she said, grinning and sliding her arms around his neck, closing any distance between them._

_Olivia doesn't know how he knew she'd rather he stayed, but she was glad they were so in tuned to one another. _

"_And it's not Monday yet," he said, eying her lips. "Unless you want me to go," he added. "Do you…want me to go Liv?"_

_She moved her right hand to palm his cheek, caressing her thumb back and forth over his bottom lip. When Elliot took the opportunity to pull it into his mouth, her mind was instantly made up._

"_No," she told him. "I don't."_

_He wasted no time meeting her waiting lips. Olivia opened to him almost immediately, sliding her tongue languidly against his. _

_Elliot picked her up bride style and carried her over to the bed. He climbed over her, kissed her eyelids and nose before leaning down to Olivia's left ear._

"_You take my breath away," he whispered. _

_He then kissed her shoulders before lowering the strap of her cami to put his lips on the spot over her heart._

_Olivia sat up long enough to pull it up and over her head, casting it aside and resting against the pillows once more. _

"_God you're beautiful," he said as she reached up to caress his cheek. _

"_You're not so bad yourself."_

_Elliot smiled before lowering his warm, open mouth to each nipple, making the surrounding areola pebble before continuing down her body. _

_He was driving her crazy with his unhurried pacing and as he dipped his tongue in her belly button, she knew it was headed in a direction their previous rushes to orgasm, simply hadn't consisted of._

_She lifted her hips as he pulled down the pajama pants and panties, widening her legs to make room for his body. Her partner first nuzzled her mound before inhaling deeply._

"_You smell so good," he said. "I bet you taste good too," he added, making her shiver at the low timber his voice had taken on._

_She looked down, swallowing hard at the sight of him between her thighs._

_Without much preamble, Elliot spread her with his fingers and took one long, exploratory lick to her center. He continued to pleasure her with the strength and texture of his tongue then added his index, then middle digits for simultaneous penetration._

_Olivia was writhing in a matter of minutes and just when she thought she couldn't handle anymore stimulation, he moved his left hand up to her right breast, massaging and teasing her nipple._

_She could do little more than grasp the duvet and palm the back of his head. Talk about saving the best for last. If she had kicked him out…_

"_Elliot!" She screamed as her orgasm ripped through her. _

_He simply sat back on his knees and watched as she blew apart in front of him, for him, because of him. _

_Olivia had a silly, dreamy-looking smile on her face once she returned from her little trip to ecstasy. He finally removed the towel, wiped his face and tossed it aside before allowing her to pull him atop her once more._

"_I may never let you leave," she joked. _

"_Is that right?" He asked, rubbing himself against her sensitive center. "What would I do for work?"_

"_Tawdry escort service with me as your only client?"_

_He laughed quickly before giving her a reckless smile. _

"_Done."_

_Elliot began making love to her mouth as he slipped inside her for the fourth time. His pace was leisurely as if the sand in their hourglass was limitless. Seconds, minutes, whole days were not measured when they were together that way. _

_When he wasn't kissing every inch of her skin, he was running his fingers through her silken strands or lavishing attention on her ample breasts, learning how to draw out her pleasure while finding his own._

"_You feel so good El," she said, stroking his back. "I don't want you to ever stop."_

_He eyed her sweetly, then smiled and slid has hands up her arms, meeting her palms to join their fingers together against the bed._

_Elliot then lowered his hips so that he was hitting her G-spot more intently. It had his partner flipflopping between shouting deities and obscenities in seconds, squirming beneath him for release._

"_I don't know how I resisted you so long," he said. "You're so fucking gorgeous Liv."_

_She had a flush over her whole body that he took the time to appreciate before leaning to whisper to her again._

"_You have an amazing heart," he went on, planting a kiss over her chest before releasing his right hand to caress her cheek. "And I'm one lucky bastard that I get to see it every day."_

_As Elliot increased the pacing he dropped his head and Olivia kissed his brow, his temple and sweetly rubbed the lobe of his ear. She felt his body tense, knew he was climaxing and wasn't long to follow. _

_Her last thought before being claimed by sleep, 'this can't change anything'. _

And as they sit in the waiting area of the emergency room, trying to anticipate a positive word about her partner, she knows it was bullshit.

Because after that night, change…was inevitable.

**End A/N: What's happening with Elliot? If he survives, where do they go from here? **


	6. Renewed

**A/N: Alright folks, this is it. The final installment of this fic. Thanks to all who've read. Bigger thanks to those who've taken the time to review.**

After the autopsy and physical evidence is finished, it's concluded that Lucas James died from one bullet from each of Elliot and Olivia's weapons. There's no way to tell which the fatal shot was.

They literally killed him together.

IAB interviewed the uniformed officers as well as Olivia. And because their stories matched the evidence and their injuries, everyone was cleared. Even Elliot, who was in a coma for the longest forty-eight hours of her life.

All his children have visited, Rick is the last.

"Take care of him Olivia," he says, walking towards the door. "Clearly his reflexes aren't what they used to be."

"Hey, I'm not superman ya know," Elliot kids from his hospital bed. "I can't dodge bullets or leap tall buildings in a single bound."

"And to think, I used to believe you could," he laughs. "Love you old man, see you later."

"Love you too kid."

Once his eldest son leaves the room, she moves from the window to sit in a chair next to her partner's bed, dropping her head to her hands.

"Liv."

"I've made some decisions," she says, bringing her eyes to his.

"Are you gonna tell me what they are or leave me in suspense?"

"I'm taking the sergeant's exam," Olivia informs him. "Munch is retiring for the 2nd or 3rd time so maybe I'll get to stay in the unit like he has."

"I hope so," he says. "Good for you."

"But if I can't," she begins. "I'll deal with whatever comes my way."

"And you'll do great wherever you land."

"Thanks."

They sit in silence for a few minutes. Each not really knowing what to say to the other.

"I'm glad you're okay," she goes with. "I was worried there for a second."

Elliot takes in the bags under her eyes, recognizes she's been at the hospital longer than anyone else, longer that what she should've been. Her clothes are disheveled, and he knows she's been surviving on coffee and nothing else.

He reaches for her hand and she immediately takes hold.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"For what?" She asks, sniffing and wiping at the tears that have instantly moistened her cheeks.

"Scaring you," Elliot answers, caressing her fingers. "Had to be a damn fluke that he managed to get me under the vest."

"He had tactical training," Olivia reasons. "He hit the mark he intended, even as drunk and high as he was."

"Guess I'm lucky he wasn't sober," he laughs. "Could've taken a head shot."

She grins in spite of herself.

"That's not funny," she rasps. "You're missing your appendix and about a foot of your large intestines. You could be dead right now."

She pulls her hand out of his grasp, using both of hers to wipe the tears from her face.

"I have to go," she says, standing abruptly.

"What if I hadn't made it?" Elliot asks, stopping her forward movement. "Is this another decision you've made?" He continues. "Distancing yourself from me?"

"No, it's not," Olivia contends, facing him again. "That specifically, is something I can't do," she explains. "Another thing I've figured out about myself is that I need to keep you around, no matter how often you try and give me a heart attack," she informs him, garnering a smile. "I just…now that I know you're gonna be okay, I need some time."

"Okay," he says, letting her go this time. "See you later."

"Yeah…you will."

Cragen offered her a few days off and surprised him and everyone else when she not only conceded but told him she wanted to take an extra two weeks to study for the upcoming sergeant's exam.

When she doesn't have her head in a book, she adopts her partner's habits of going to the shooting range and working out. On top of those changes, she swaps her takeout menus for cookbooks. And other than a few calls here and there to check on his progress, she doesn't talk to him, hasn't seen him since she left him that day in the hospital.

Elliot returns two days after his partner does, a week before John is set to retire. They work as diligently as they always did, to investigate and close cases. At the end of their last shift together they go out and celebrate Munch's retirement and Olivia passing the sergeant's exam with flying colors.

No surprise to anyone.

It takes a month but Cragen gets word that she's allowed to stay on as sergeant. She knows he fought for it so she's grateful for it and the fact that he'll let her give the good news to everyone including her partner. They bring in another detective the day of her promotion ceremony and Olivia decides to have an overdue conversation with her boss.

"A word Cap?" She asks, after knocking and entering.

"What's on your mind Olivia?"

She paces for a solid minute before he stops her.

"Sergeant?"

"Uh, okay," she says, as much to herself as to him. "With Detective Amaro coming on, I want to request that he partner with Elliot."

"Have you discussed this with Stabler?"

"No but, I plan on talking to him tonight."

"Did something happen?" He asks. "The two of you fighting again?"

"No sir," she answers, meeting his eyes. "We are definitely _not_…fighting."

It takes him a short while but Cragen isn't stupid. He knows exactly what she's talking about.

"You sure?"

"I am," she says. "I hear good things about Amaro and Elliot is the perfect person to show him the ropes."

"That and Elliot and Fin would probably shoot each other after a week of partnership," Cragen points out, making Benson smile.

"Probably."

"It's not an ideal situation Olivia," he says. "Especially now with your promotion."

"There's another sergeant's exam in six months," she offers. "If Elliot takes it and passes—

"It'll be the first time I'd be hearing about any type of relationship," he interrupts. "Until then, I don't know a damn thing," he adds. "Your private lives are your own."

"Thank you Captain."

She turns to leave.

"Oh and," he says, stopping her forward motion. "Congratulations again, Sergeant Benson."

Olivia nods her thanks and leaves. She knows he's not just talking about her promotion but the decision to finally do something about her partnership.

When she returns to her desk, Elliot is staring at her as she puts her dress blue jacket on the back of her chair before sitting.

"What?" She asks.

"You_ know_ what," he answers. "You were in there for a while."

"So," Olivia says, drawing out the word. "Don't you have a shit load of paperwork to catch up on?"

"Yeah but—

"You should really try to put a dent in that stack detective," she says smirking. "Those DD5s aren't gonna fill themselves out."

Elliot thinks about arguing but decides against it.

"Yes ma'am…Sergeant."

It's been nearly two months since he's eyed her with the type of heat he's focusing on her now.

"Stop it," she whispers.

"Sorry," he says. "Just…you look good in those stripes."

"Thank you," Olivia tells him, hoping she isn't blushing.

They wrap two he-said, she-said cases and one molestation charge before calling it a day. Elliot even manages to get some of the growing stack from his sick leave done before the clock strikes 5pm.

He's relieved to have found the week slower than usual.

"Any plans?" Olivia asks, getting his attention.

"For a Wednesday night?" He asks. "Uh, no. My busy social calendar doesn't usually kick off until Friday nights when I order takeout and watch old Perry Mason episodes."

"What are you, eighty?" She questions with a grin.

"You have something better in mind?"

"I do actually," she responds. "My place, 8 o'clock."

"I'd rather order take-out and binge Netflix on my own couch," Elliot tells her. "Thanks anyway sergeant."

The place is nearly vacant, Fin and Munch left twenty minutes ago, still she leans in as if she doesn't want anyone else to hear.

"I promise you a home cooked meal and no Perry Mason."

"Since when do you cook?"

Olivia rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

"You gonna be there or not?"

He meets her eyes across the short expanse, trying to gauge her mood. It doesn't take him long to realize that this evening is important to her. He just doesn't yet understand how important it'll be for them both.

"I'll be there," he assures her. "8 o'clock?"

"8 o'clock."

She only gets to make this proposal once, so everything must be just so. Now she understands what men go through. Not that's she's popping the proverbial question, but what she is suggesting is just as important.

Olivia is not Patti LaBelle or Rachael Ray but she's going to make a great tasting home cooked meal if it kills her. It takes her two hours or so, but she manages to prepare grilled chicken breasts flavored with lemon and garlic. She hopes they are as delicious as they smell. After sautéing some mixed veggies and making brown rice, there's just enough time to get ready.

It is the beginning of June and the temperature in the city is seasonably hot. Thank God for air conditioning. Olivia sweeps her hair up into a loose bun, tendrils falling from the sides of her face. She dons an emerald green summer dress that's simple yet beautiful along with a pair of sandals.

She's putting on hoop earrings and dabbing on her favorite perfume when she hears his signature knocks at the door. Olivia lights the candles at the small dining table, presses the play button on her mini stereo and goes to answer.

"Hey, Liv I…wow," he says.

"You were saying?"

"Nothing important," Elliot tells her. "You look amazing."

"Thank you, come in."

He's still dressed in what he wore to work sans jacket and tie. The sleeves on his shirt are rolled up, hands stuffed inside his pockets as he looks around. Strategically placed candlelight is the sole source of illumination in the room. Real plates and silverware instead of takeout Styrofoam and plastic forks, rest on the quaint, white linen covered table adjacent to her kitchen.

"I hope everything tastes okay," she tells him, transferring the food to the plates. "I've never tried the recipe before."

"I'm sure it's fine Liv, can I do anything to help?"

He watches in awe as she navigates the small space.

"You can open the wine," she tells him. "The corkscrew is next to the bottle."

Olivia is a bundle of nerves. The butterflies in her stomach are having babies and she's lucky he isn't close enough to see the slight tremor in her hands.

"_Calm the fuck down,"_ she thinks to herself, taking a deep breath.

"It's a good thing we're not catching this weekend," Elliot says, filling both glasses. "I've had this wine before, potent stuff."

He meets her eyes across the short distance and winks. She bites her lower lip and shakes her head as they both sit. Her partner of twelve years has her feeling like a teenager with a crush on her first date.

"This looks and smells great Liv," he compliments.

"Let's dig in then."

Seconds later he's moaning over how good it is. When she gets a taste of the chicken and mixed veggies, Olivia's pleased with herself.

"You're right," she agrees. "It's not bad."

"It's better than 'not bad', it's damn good."

"Thank you."

"No, Liv. Thank _you_," he tells her. "But you're the one that made sergeant. I should be treating you to a nice home-cooked meal."

"You cook?" Olivia asks, eyebrows raised.

"About is much as you have before today," he points out. "But I can read just as well," he adds, gesturing to her new cookbooks.

"Busted."

"I appreciate the effort, Liv," Elliot says. "Is that why I'm here?" He asks. "A little partnerly dinner of celebration?"

"That's…part of it."

"And the other part?"

"To tell you that I asked Cragen to let Detective Amaro partner with you," she reveals. "And he agreed to it."

"What?" He asks, none too happy. "Why the hell would you do that?"

"Because I—

"You both decided this all by yourselves without my input?" He asks, pushing away from the table.

"El I—

"You answer the door in that sexy dress, soft music playing, all this damn candlelight so you could do what?" He asks, clearly pissed. "Tell me to my face this time that you're leaving?"

Olivia watches as he quickly moves towards the door but manages to beat him there to prevent his swift exit.

"Move _sergeant_."

"No," she says adamantly.

"I don't wanna move you but if I have to, I will."

Elliot's breathing heavy, she can see the fire in his eyes and knows without a doubt that he's about ten seconds from doing exactly that.

"Are you still in love with me?" She asks, immediately extinguishing the ire she sees.

He calms almost immediately, walking to the sofa.

"That's a dirty fucking thing to do," Elliot says, leaning his head against the back cushions, hands resting on his knees. "What do _you_ think?"

Olivia sighs, relieved that for the moment, her partner is staying. She wastes no time joining him, leaving just enough space between them.

"I'll take that as a yes," she says, covering his hand with her own.

He surprises her by turning up his palm and intertwining their fingers.

"Of course," he admits. "So why are you ditching me?"

"I'm not ditching you El," she says. "You told me to make some decisions for _me_ and that's what I've done," she continues, eying his lips. "I've moved up in rank and now I'd like to pursue this hot guy I've had my eye on."

"Things going that well with Mr. Wonderful?" Elliot asks.

Olivia leans in closer.

"Things are over between me and Mr. Wonderful," she informs him, breathing his air. "But he did encourage me to _uncomplicate_ my partnership."

Elliot uses his other hand to cup her cheek before removing the distance between them. He takes her bottom lip into his mouth, nibbling on it before she opens to him fully. If not for the need to breathe, they would likely never stop. She pulls back to lean her forehead against his.

"I love you too El," she says against his lips. "I'm sorry I didn't have the courage to confront my feelings sooner."

Olivia leans back and meets his eyes.

"I think you did," he tells her. "But we're both equally stubborn people who've been too chickenshit to let go of our comfortable situation."

"Probably," she says, planting another short kiss to his lips. "But there's another reason I want you to partner with Amaro."

"What's that?"

"Cragen knows about us," she reveals.

"Shit," he says. "How did he take it?"

"Surprisingly well," Olivia says, smiling. "But he can only feign ignorance for so long," she adds. "That's why you have to take the next sergeant's exam."

"I get it," he tells her. "He can overlook coworkers dating but not a subordinate/supervisor relationship."

"Right."

"No problem," he contends. "I have a hot study partner that's gonna make sure I score…well," he says, waggling his eyebrows.

"You are so damn cheesy," she says, laughing.

"Then it's a good thing you're so crazy in love with me," he points out.

"I am," Olivia whispers against his mouth before kissing him again.

It's a slow and tender exploration of lips and tongues before Elliot's laying her down on the sofa cushions, searching for the zipper to her dress.

"Wait," she says. "If we want leftovers instead of spoiled food, we should probably put all that away."

Elliot looks at her beneath him, then over his shoulder at the food.

"Now?"

"Yes," she says grinning. "Now."

"Okay," he exhales gruffly. "I'll do it," he adds as they both stand.

Olivia immediately smiles.

"I was hoping you'd say that," she tells him. "While you're busy in here, I'll be busy in there," she says, gesturing towards her bedroom.

"You're only gonna be able to manipulate me with your feminine wiles for so long Sergeant Benson," Elliot warns, as he begins to clean up. "I'm on to you."

Olivia winks and grins as she moves into the bedroom to change. She remembers how her partner seemed not to be able to take his eyes off her while wearing her new dress blues.

So, she ditches the emerald green dress and exchanges her modest undergarments for some powder blue cheekies trimmed in white lace and her dress blue jacket, unbuttoned and baring her braless form but not revealing her completely. Olivia lets down her hair, shakes it out and puts on her sergeant's cap and slips on her sexiest black heels.

Elliot may have a heart attack.

She walks to the threshold of her hallway, leans against the wall and tilts her cap to sit just above her eyes.

"You about done out here detective?"

"Yeah, I'm…," he turns, mouth falling slightly open. "Done."

Elliot drops the towel he was using to wipe the counter down with. Slowly he approaches her.

"God Liv, you look…incredible."

She swallows nervously but doesn't know why. They've done this before. But the way he's looking at her.

"You gonna stand over there all night?" Olivia asks. "Or are you gonna get over here and touch me?"

"I am but before I do," he says, stepping closer. "I need to say something and if I touch you, I won't have the words."

Olivia understands because he does the same to her but she's worried about what he's about to say.

"I'm listening."

"First, I'm sorry for the way a spoke to you earlier," he begins. "You made us a candlelight dinner to tell me you wanna explore a relationship and I blew up without listening to you," he adds. "I don't deserve any of this."

"Well _I _do," she tells him, closing the distance between them. "And I want it with _you_," she adds, putting her arms around his shoulders. "You said I should start making more selfish decisions and this was one of them."

"Are you sure?" He asks, restraining himself from touching her. "After all I've put you through over the years, even our first time together," he continues. "I should've made it…more romantic, better…it should've been more…special."

Olivia drops her arms, takes him by the hand and leads him to her bedroom. It's darkened but lit by candles just as their dinner was.

"Something like this?" She asks.

"Yes," he says, looking around at the romantic atmosphere. "Our first time together should've been just as perfect as all this."

"Elliot, was I hesitant at all that night?"

"No."

"Did it seem as though I hated or regretted anything we did?"

"No," he answers again. "But it should've been…_something_."

"I'd say multiple orgasms was absolutely something," she says, smiling and putting her arms around him again. "It was us El. We've always been _'act first and think about consequences_ _later'_ types of people," she reminds him, caressing the nape of his neck. "Why would our first time together be any different than the rest of our partnership?"

Elliot finally puts his arms around her, closing the distance between them.

"I love you Olivia," he says. "I don't know why you chose me, but I thank God that you have," he adds, his voice affected.

He's bringing her to tears without even trying.

"Because I love you too," she asserts, wiping the moisture from her face. "You're my best friend," she goes on. "And despite being hard-headed, judgmental and quick tempered," she tells him garnering a smile. "You also have this huge heart, you have my back even when I don't need you to and no matter where the job takes either of us, I can't imagine not having you in my life."

Just then, the music floating from her living room changed to _Best Part_ by H.E.R. featuring Daniel Ceasar.

Elliot kisses her sweetly and slowly. He uses his index finger, running it down her chin until he reaches the center of her cleavage, where he replaces the digit with softness of lips.

He takes a step back, circles her until he's standing behind her. Olivia stands still, patiently waiting for his next move.

She feels the weight of his hands on her shoulders before he slowly pulls the dress blue coat back, letting it fall to the floor. Not soon after, Olivia hears an article of his own clothing meet her jacket.

In feeling the wisps of his chest hair on her back as he melds their bodies together, she now knows it was his shirt. Soft, warm, open-mouthed kisses are placed on one shoulder, then the other as his hands caress her stomach.

He moves to face her again, swaying with her and turning until her calves hit the bed.

Olivia sits and slides back, putting one leg up and letting her hair fall sexily over one eye as she beckons him to join her with a simple look. There's a mixed expression of love and hunger as he ditches his shoes and socks then drops his slacks.

Butterflies born of anticipation and remembrance of their last time together flutter their wings inside her, speeding up an already racing heart.

He approaches, plants a kiss on each ankle before removing the ridiculously high heels one at a time. Once gone, he climbs over her body, resting between her legs before capturing her lips again.

Elliot delves into her mouth, sliding his tongue against hers and trying to remember that they both need oxygen. He can barely help himself. Some of her is never enough for him. He always wants more.

His right hand drops to her left breast, palming it, massaging it gingerly before swiping his thumb back and forth over her pert nipple.

She moans her appreciation while her hand dips into his black boxer briefs, squeezing his ass and making him smile against her mouth.

"Somebody's impatient," he says, leaning slightly away grinning.

Olivia bites her lower lip, before matching his expression.

"What can I say?" She asks. "I went through a lot of trouble to seduce you."

"And I'm trying to make it worth your time," he says, moving his ministrations to her left nipple.

Olivia closes her eyes at the sensation while Kiana Lede's _I Choose You_ begins playing.

"Then by all means…"

Not wanting to disappoint, he exchanges his hand for his mouth, treating each breast to the warmth and undulating action of his tongue. Olivia's palm immediately goes to his nape, encouraging him as she's becoming more and more excited.

She bucks up from an unexpected orgasm, but Elliot knew exactly what he was doing, having learned it's her second G-spot from their Saturday together.

"Fuck!" She yells out.

As she calms, he continues down her body, kissing and nuzzling the vanilla and brown sugar aroma of her soft skin. Once he reaches her La Perla, she lifts and together they remove her satin and lace panties.

The second he rids her of them, he's on her. But Olivia turns the tables, flipping Elliot onto his back.

"You're too overdressed for this party," she says, pulling the black cotton carefully over his erection and down his muscular legs.

She pauses after they're gone, standing at the foot of the bed. Olivia peruses her partner from the darkened blue of his eyes, to the chest she's always admired to the strength of his legs and every glorious thing in between.

Elliot folds his arms behind his head, smiling at the love of his life.

"See something you like?"

In answer, she climbs over his body, straddling him. Olivia wastes no time kissing him as he threads his hands through the silky strands of her hair. She treats his mouth the same way Elliot has treated hers, barely allowing him to take a breath.

She's done being patient.

Olivia skims over his chin and to his neck where she playfully bites him while she circles his nipples with the tips of her fingers. Being almost as sensitive as hers, she feels him getting harder against her stomach and grins to herself.

She sits up, hovers above him enough to rub herself against him, coating Elliot in her very essence.

"Shit Liv," he rasps.

"You still wanna take this slow?"

She shrieks as he flips them again. He smooths his hands up her arms to grasp hers, then leans next to her right ear. He bites the lobe and soothes the tender flesh with the warmth of his mouth.

"Yes," he whispers.

Elliot reaches down, parts her folds then slips partly inside her.

"Now you're just teasing me," she says.

"And people think I'm the impatient one," he tells her.

Olivia wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him fully inside her and wincing at the slight pinch.

"Am I hurting you?" He asks, his face a mask of concern as he releases a hand to caress her face.

"No," she answers. "Just…don't stop."

Taking her at her word, he moves again, slowly, watching for any sign of discomfort. She pulls him down to kiss her as he continues, convincing him further as Ed Sheeran's _Perfect_ plays.

Olivia moans as he begins setting a satisfying rhythm, letting her legs fall back against the mattress, widening them to make room for his body.

"God El," she manages.

He kisses her eyelids, nose, makes love to her mouth then works at suckling the tender flesh at her neck. Olivia will need concealer and a few makeup tricks to hide the evidence of their lovemaking.

Elliot grips her right thigh putting it over his hip, inevitably getting deeper and almost immediately finding her spot. One night together and he remembers her body better than any lover ever has.

As he picks up the pace she knows he's close and that's okay because she is too. She finds the energy to flip them again, enjoying her view from the top as much as he seems to.

Olivia rides him deeply and passionately, leaning back to change the angle, grasping the muscles of his thighs.

"Fuck Liv," he grunts, knowing they have seconds.

Elliot reaches between them, teases and manipulates her with the rough pads of his fingers until she's throwing her head back in a scream. Moments later he's bucking up, seizing Olivia's hips in his hands as they orgasm together.

She collapses on his chest, burying her face in the juncture of his neck, waiting for her breathing and heartbeat to return to a normal pace. Elliot rubs her back soothingly while doing the same.

After a few minutes she gingerly climbs off him to lay on her stomach, hands folded beneath her head. He covers them both with her duvet before resting on his back.

"You know," he begins, turning on his side towards her. "The next time you wanna seduce me, you don't have to put forth so much effort."

"No?"

"No," he answers. "If you would've called me over here, no food, no candlelight, no music and just told me to take my pants off," he adds making her laugh. "I would've been game."

"Good to know," Olivia says. "But it was me who wanted the food, the music and the candlelight," she informs him. "I basically proposed the end of our partnership in an attempt at being something more," she adds. "So yeah…I wanted it to be…something memorable, something special."

Elliot reaches over, threading his hand through her hair.

"It absolutely was…is, something special Liv," he says. "And I know you said you enjoyed the spontaneity of our first time together, but you can't tell me you wouldn't have preferred something like this."

"Today I was in a romantic mood," she explains. "That night, I was just…incredibly horny," she informs him, making his eyebrows raise in shock before his face breaks into a smile. "I wasn't thinking of our partnership, my suppressed feelings or anything other than how good it felt to have you finally kissing me, touching me."

"Wow."

"Come on El," she continues. "You're old enough to know that sometimes, women just wanna skip the romance and have a really good orgasm," she adds. "And that night…I had plenty."

"So, you wouldn't trade it?"

"Hell no," she says grinning. "It was the best night I'd had in an embarrassingly long time," she answers. "And that last time, when you were making love to me…I knew it was only a matter of time before I couldn't deny my feelings anymore."

"True," he agrees. "I couldn't get you out of my head," he admits. "It was different when being with you was just a fantasy but after that night…I knew I wanted more."

"Whipped after one night huh?" She asks.

Elliot shakes his head and laughs in spite of himself.

"Not really," he disagrees. "More like whipped after twelve years."

At his admission, Olivia scoots over to kiss him, languidly so. They're out of breath again when she finishes.

Turning away from him, she pulls back the duvet and gets out of bed.

"Where you going?"

"Shower."

Elliot nods and lays back against the pillow, closing his eyes.

"Uh, detective?"

He opens one eye, then the other.

"Yes Sergeant," he answers with a smirk.

"Get the hell in here," she says pausing in the doorway in all her naked glory.

"Is that some type of official order?"

She leans against the frame, arms crossed over her chest, pushing her breasts up, raising one eyebrow. The image gives him a damn near instant erection.

"Do you _need_ it to be?"

He throws back the covers and stalks towards her, barely uttering out a, "hell no," before meeting her waiting lips and pulling Olivia into the bathroom.

It's been over a decade in the making. They've gone through separations, an unexpected child, her near sexual assault, deaths of colleagues and his divorce. None if it was something a typical partnership could've withstood. But they worked and fought through it.

Six months will bring even more change. They'll no longer be partners. Ideally it'll be Fin and Benson. Amaro and Stabler. But Olivia could end up in another borough's SVU. Elliot could end up anywhere in the NYPD.

But they'll still have each other.

Olivia and Elliot will have candlelight dinners, Yankee games on the sofa, moonlit chats on her fire escape when it's warm and coming home to each other's apartments after being apart all day.

Because except for the sex, it's not all that new.

And they've never really been typical partners.

But this…this is their _new_ normal.

The End.

**End A/N: Fic writers write for many reasons. Some of us are honing our crafts while working on our own characters. Some just absolutely love these characters so much we can't NOT write about them. Others feel the writers got things wrongs, left things out or just plain old could've done better. No matter the reason, we aren't getting paid. That being said, if you were entertained enough by this or any fic to favorite and/or follow, why not review? I'm quite sure it takes less time than it does to conceptualize, write and edit any of the ones you've enjoyed. Just a question. Thanks again for reading!**


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